Headstone

What do you do the day you pick out your mom’s headstone? She didn’t want to do that part when we went to the funeral home a few years ago to make her arrangements. She said I would have to figure that out. At the time you’re talking about a thing that can’t be comprehended. When you take your mom to the funeral home in the first place it’s a surreal idea. We went to lunch. Shopped. Went on a scenic. Selected a casket. That was strangely matter-of-fact. The pink one of course. And now that we have reached the headstone part I was wishing we had already done that. But who wants to see their name engraved on a slab of marble? It’s incomprehensible. We deny that we are that vulnerable to this life. To death. To eternity.

So today I took the day off work. I met my beautiful niece at the funeral home. We were assigned homework by the funeral director — he says go out to the cemetery and see what you like or don’t like. We declined.

We know pink stone might appeal to her but somehow it didn’t look right. They use inks on those. We looked through catalogs. Talked about options. Sizes. Shapes. Colors. Embellishments. We made jokes. We didn’t cry. We talked about Bling. Rhinestone? Bedazzling! We looked through stock photos and how to incorporate the shofar.

We picked fonts and scripts. We picked a butterfly, a rooster and hen, and an eagle. We picked black granite filled with sparkles. We chose an oval inside a rectangle for In Loving Memory Janice “Gooie” Brown March 6 1942 – October 16, 2018. And there will be a concrete base where the shofar can be placed.

We dropped off keys to the house for the new owner. I headed back home and so did she. I drove in the bright blue sky sunshine along roads edged with snow, Lake Samish a picture postcard.

I went to the Art Market to get some of my pieces to show at the Art Walk Friday. I went down to the bay and picked up rocks and shells and kelp and feathers. When I got too cold I went to my favorite cafe and had matcha and açaí bowl. I’ll head to hobby lobby and try to get everything for the art show. I’ll go home and prepare my art for showing.

I’ll go out to dinner with my husband and work on my Etsy store.

That’s what you do when your mom dies and you have to keep on living – without her. And you have to breathe and love and live and experience it all.

©Belindabotzong2019

Author: belindabotzong

I am a writer of historical fiction currently working on a novel based in Washington State from the years of 1900-1945. I love to write poetry and prose inspired by Creation, as well as share in life's journey through grief, mental illness, and travel. I am very blessed to be able to pursue my passion of writing, creating, and sharing my thoughts here.

49 thoughts on “Headstone”

  1. Happy to spend time with you today even under these circumstances. Feeling feelings is sure tough but it also makes you feel alive and cherish the moments. If you find feathers that you aren’t using, keep them for me 🙂 I’m going to start some natural art products using branches and feathers 🙂 love you . Have fun with Nicki!!

    1. I love you sweet girl. Thank you for hanging out with me!
      Feathers are hard to find in pristine condition. I’ll keep my eye out though. Go down to the waterfront for white ones. Can’t wait to see what you come up with! And whenever you get flowers just hang them upside down and save them for me ;). We’ll start a nature exchange :).

  2. When my dad died a few years ago, I was struck by the fact that something so natural (everyone passes from this life) is still so foreign. Sorry you have experienced such a great loss.

    1. Thank you Suanne. It should be ordinary and normal…. Natural. Happens everyday— babies are born and grandmas die. It is the circle of life. Glad she knew Jesús and is happy and healthy now. I write to clear my mind, explore the deep waters of life experience, and to let my friends who haven’t experienced their orphan years know what they may go through. There is a balance of normality and deep regret. Of loss and deep relief that she suffers no more. Thanks for sharing my journey. Have a beautiful day!

  8. Every time I have experienced loss it was amazing to me how this process always just ended up being very matter of fact. I have never had to be the one making decisions but I have been around when they were being made, and this post describes it perfectly. You just somehow get it done. It seems like something that you wouldn’t be able to do but you do. I’m so sorry for your loss…

  10. Oh, that sounds so hard. I didn’t have to do all that when my dad died a few years ago but I did meet with funeral directors about the arrangements. It’s almost surreal, isn’t it? We definitely spend much of our lives resisting and denying death, so when it happens close to us, it can leave us wondering what to do. I admire the way you handled it and wrote about it. Beautiful.

  13. I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine picking out a parents headstone and all the emotions that go along with that. It sounds like you made a meaningful choice amd I’m sure your mom would love it.

  15. Not having experienced choosing a headstone, I had never thought about how difficult and emotional this would be. Your post is beautiful and so full of love for your mother. It sounds like the headstone you chose was a perfect choice for her. I’m so sorry for your loss.

  16. My first baby boy only lived for a week before passing away. Picking out his headstone was pretty much the only thing I got to do for him so it has to be perfect! It was also the hardest part because it’s so final! You are right about living and loving after loss, it’s really the only thing that gets you through the hard moments!

    1. Oh Jessica. Losing my mom seems hard but normal… people grow old and pass along into heaven and it’s the cycle of life. But Losing a baby is one thing that is too hard to imagine. Bless your heart. I’m so glad you posted your memories of the headstone here. I appreciate you taking time to read my blog. Yours is BEAUTIFUL! You are very blessed.

  19. I’m sorry for your loss! I’m sure your mom was with you that day, peering over your shoulder and walking with you through your ordinary, unordinary day. The treasures you found are special gifts that you needed that day as well. Blessings to you.

  20. This was touching – I am so sorry for the loss of your Mom. I can only imagine as I haven’t experienced that yet. I’m sure your Mom would have been pleased with your inclusion of your niece and what you ultimately chose for her!

  23. Thank you for sharing your story. Today was my best friend’s father’s birthday, and he passed just over a year ago. They revealed his headstone recently and it was just so prefect and so him. I miss him every day, and can only imagine what you are going through. My thoughts to you and your family.

  25. I love the idea of a shofar and what it represents. I think headstones are special. My dad’s has Winnie the Pooh and the salt lake temple and it took us ten years to get his death date enscribed on it.

  27. Surreal is the perfect word for this. While I didn’t have the opportunity to participate in this process for my father, who unexpectedly passed away 20 years ago this July, I did with my grandmother and mother-in-law. I can totally relate to the way you described it and I am so sorry for your loss. Sending hugs.

  28. I am so sorry for your loss! Thank you for explaining it so beautifully and for being an inspiration to others that might be going through it as well. It is so hard to lose a loved one. I think it is so great that you write about it for other to read! And I am sure it is part of your healing process as well!

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